Never Forget
by demonwolfkid
Summary: Lory made him write it. To explain his actions, rationalize his thoughts. He wasn't sure what good it would do.
1. Month 1

I was fourteen when things started to go wrong.

No, that a lie. It was earlier. I'm not sure how early then. Probably sometime after my first girlfriend at the age of twelve.

I had been a child actor, though not a big one. I had chosen against going the way of easy fame in the children's categories. The mainstream children's shows promised large successes early on, but the quality of those children as adults was questionable at best. Perhaps it is unusual to say that I though of such things at the time, though I was a youth of considerable intellect I can honestly say that I hadn't put much thought into the decision.

My parents were that of higher prestige. An aspiring actor and model, they were in many ways larger than life. That isn't to say that they were unreachable or distant, no. I have many memories of us spending time together in the forests of the smoky mountains and the beaches of the coast. Rather, they were, should I say, unmeasurable, and for a time that in itself was what compelled me. Proud did not even begin to describe how I felt when I approached them.

But, as they tend to, children grow old. My youth passed in but a blink of the eye, and my teenage years were far more perilous. What might have been an easy ride into game by other people's gaze was nothing but steep step falls and perilous jumps from one job to another. Those that knew me urged my patience. They sought, not to console me, but to mold me, to create the actor that they knew I could be.

Still, I am a human, not clay. I did not wish to be molded, I was stuck in the ground, me feet and ideals firmly rooted in what I thought was correct. My stubbornness turned to petulance, my petulance to anger, and soon it became all that I knew. It wasn't something that was a part of me, rather it was me.

It is quite easy to acquire certain substances as a young actor, alarmingly so, and as I delved deeper and deeper into myself I found that I was losing myself to this new persona. Gone was the child who wanted to simply be. I would not be consoled, even when people stopped their disparaging words towards me. I knew, even then, that it was not due to talent, but rather fear and discontent. I was angry at them, angry at the world, and angry at myself.

At the time I was so wrapped up in my own problems that I refused to see others. My only saving grace was an older boy, a young man really. He, unlike myself, was well liked in our circles. He had an easy going, likable air that I immediately detested. Still, somehow he broke through the walls I had erected between myself and the rest of the world. He was simply- too good for this world.

In the end that was his downfall, as was I. He tried to save me from my darkness, and succeeded, though I'd rather he hadn't. He left behind a sister, his only family, just to save me.

I wasn't worth it. I'm still not.

Still, there is no going back. What's done is done. He has sentenced me to live with the consequence of his actions. His punishment is that I may live while he cannot.

I think it is fitting. I will suffer. That is the only thing I can do.

* * *

 **So I swear I'm still working on my other projects, but I wrote this while I was at work on my phone and found it oddly compelling.**

 **For a bit of perspective, this is supposed to be written not long after Ren is taken under Lory's wing, as a personal project.**

 **It is a bit of a lead in to a project I'm working on that I may or may not post.**


	2. Month 2

I received a letter from Micah today. I haven't opened it, though it is only a matter of time. Even if I never write back, I owe her that much.

Rick was 18 to my 14, an odd gap for friends such as us. His sister was 12, a large age gap for siblings. Not that I am an expert on siblings, though those two were the ideal in my mind. Always bickering, they cared for each other in a way that went far beyond the usual sibling duo.

I'm unsure of the exact circumstances that forced him to care for his sister. We didn't talk of such things. Micah, for her part, was never particularly interested in me. She was my friend, in a way. Always there with a smirk on her face and an insult on the tip of her tongue.

Tina, Rick's girlfriend, certainly wasn't my biggest fan. She thought I was a bad influence, and as much as I'm sure I was, Micah hardly needed my help in her corruption. She was of a sort whose circle consisted of little more than oneself. Her so called 'care' for Micah was only brought forth by her incessant need to control her boyfriend.

Neither of them really mattered to me at the time. Tina was an annoyance at the best of times. Micah, while closer in age to me, was wholly uninteresting. Her sarcasm angered me at the time, not because of her attitude, but rather because she spoke the truth. We got along when he had to. Our interests were relatively well aligned and our demeanors were not wholly

She always did have that unnerving ability. Like Rick she fit into most crowds, though he was more reserved than she. It would seem otherwise, on the surface. Rick liked people far more than Micah ever did, for she found them exhausting and didn't care for the drama that came with superficial relationships, but given the chance she would open easily enough. Rick, on the other hand, rarely spoke of his past.

Our acquaintanceship was short lived. Rick and I barely knew each other for a year when he passed, and I left shortly after. I never even went to his funeral, convinced as I was that I was unwelcome. To Tina, I'm sure I was. She despised my presence before Rick died. Micah, it seemed, expected my reaction, and in preparation for it had given my parents a letter. The first of many she would address to me. She bares me no ill will, though I am still unwilling to face her.

She still writes me every month or so. She tells me of her life. Her friends and her classes. She doesn't speak of my parents, though I know she is in contact with her. They likely felt as guilty as I did, though for various reasons. After all, their son was the reason for her brother's death. I know better than to assume they are ashamed of me. They are my parents, after all. Still, they would feel indebted to her, if only because they always felt indebted to Rick for saving me from myself. Funny, how my savor became my martyr.

* * *

 **Well, that happened. The side project I mentioned before wasn't a continuation of this theme, but it seems that I couldn't leave well enough alone. Idk how often I'll be updating this, but it'll continue on a case-by-case basis.**

 **I kinda like the whimsical, thoughtful tone of this story, it's unlike my typical writing style.**


	3. Month 3

I still don't know the reasons for this. The boss has instructed me to write once a month, so I shall- though what about or why, I'm still unsure. I suppose I should write of Rick, though I would rather not. I feel that it is appropriate in light of my last entry.

Simply put, Our friendship did not start easily. He was not an actor, nor a member of the crew. Rather, he was a stunt man. One who risked his life for little credit- a true master of his craft. He was barely twenty when he died, barely an adult by any standards. His ability to fit in with both cast and crew was not unusual, but it did identify him.

He didn't want fame or fortune. He just wanted to be a part of something- at least, that's what he told me. He was an artistic being, he truest belonged on set just as much as any actor or director. He treated everyone as equals, with a. Certain amount of deference even to those younger than him.

I hated the man when we first met. I was but thirteen, almost fourteen at the time. We were working on some action movie, the name of which escapes me at the moment. I had just hit my growth spurt, and he was acting as my body double. He was annoying to the nth degree, friendly and spiritual when I was anything but.

He hung around me, not put off by the outward discontent in the slightest. He claimed that he needed to get a read on me, on how I worked and who I was as a person. There was no logic in those statements, after all, he only needed to know how my character would have acted, not me. He was talented enough to be able to manage that much without forcing his presence upon me.

Still, he grew on me. In my anger I grew a liking for the more dangerous things, and instead of pushing me away from the activities he simply redirected my energies. He had a certain way about him that encouraged movement, encouraged venting, but in a healthier, more productive way.

Still, I would not be fully deterred. We fought often, for he was a quarrelsome fellow. We were best friends though. Strangers in a way, for we never really spoke of deeper things, but I didn't hate him. I actually enjoyed his presence, as much as I was loath to admit such a thing.

In the end, he was trying to save me. To stop me from doing something stupid. My anger engulfed me, and I didn't care about my own career, or my fathers, or anything really. I just wanted to fight.

And then he was gone.

* * *

 **This was actually supposed to be month 2, but it works either way.**


	4. Month 4

I keep having these nightmares.

I left America to escape, but I can't. Not really. Escaping doesn't alleviate my guilt. It doesn't fix anything. Boss says I have to accept it. To move past it. To reconcile myself.

Whatever. He can talk all he wants to. It won't solve anything. I killed him. It's my fault.

It's been three months since I arrived in Japan. My individual training is coming to an end. Touya-sensei says I can pass as a typical Japanese man, albeit a forward one. So long as I smile there shouldn't be any problems. Most people will precieve me as a playboy, which is an easy enough identity to assume. I can do nice and approachable, I spent enough time around Rick to be able to imitate it.

If I could die I would. The inevitable escapism of death would be a welcome distraction from the life I am forced to put up with now. Only when I am acting can I escape the timeless terror that is my never-ending thoughts- or worse, the total lack on any coherent thought- and yet is that not another form of escapism? I do not face that which I cannot fight. Is it worth it to assume I will ever be able to move past this?

The president seems to think so. He provides endless distractions, and forces me to focus on something. He seems to think that the time spent trying to fix me is well worth it. I'd argue, but the man is as stubborn as he is eccentric.

I promised Rick that I'd try to be better. That I'd be my own man. I promised him that I'd take care of his sister. That I'd be responsible for my own actions.

How many promises can I fail? How many of my words come up empty?

Depression is a curious thing. Self-loathing, hate, such simple words for such complicated emotions. There's an emptiness where there was once discontent. Socially, I've never been better. There's a certain liberation to not caring about life, I suppose.

Tsuruga Ren is the name I've chosen for myself. With a constant mask, I should be able to hide some of who I was. Hopefully with practice I will be able to hide all of it. The boss- the President that is, says I've gotten better. At the very least I'm spacing out less.


	5. Month 5

I look like him.

I mean, we were body doubles, or rather he was for me. Still, when Jelly was done with dying my hair I didn't expect to see Rick staring back at me. Is this my punishment? To carry on using his face, his demeanor? I even wear his watch. Not always of course, a functioning watch is more useful, but I keep it close.

Micah wrote me again. Her letters keep getting shorter. I wonder how long it will take for her to stop writing. I can't honestly decide if I want her to.

My first film is called "Mars Cluster" an action film. The main character is limited and a bit one dimensional, and the plot is nothing special, but for a no name actor it'll be a big enough debut. I am the second lead, the best friend and slightly younger counterpart to the main character. Part comic relief, part nice-guy; Rick would've loved the roll. The action sequences are sure to be intense and the stunts are remarkably intricate for coming from a low-level studio. Thanks to his training I can probably do most of them myself, but maybe I should leave that to the pros.

I'm fairly certain Lory is using my debut as a foothold to get the studio in the spotlight. I wouldn't put it past him. He's surprisingly conniving, that man.

My screen time is just short of the main leads time. I have a small fling with the leading lady before she decides which of us she loves most. Which, really, is quite cliché, but I have no actual problems with the script, and it is a well-liked plot line, so I'll let it be.

The shooting should last about a year or so. That, plus editing and advertising leads the film to release in two years or so. I'll be seventeen by that time.

The President wants me to look over a few scripts today. A drama or two I think, plus a few guest appearances. Nothing I can't handle. I wonder what Rick would say if he saw me now. He'd probably laugh and play up the hype of it all. He never did care about fame.

* * *

 **Honestly the length of each chapter is subject to my mood and the topic. I try to condense these, because it's not so much about the length, but rather the emotion. It's an introspective, self-written look at Kuon. If your writing about yourself or your friends you don't have a need for windy explanations or descriptions, because you already know what you're talking about.**

 **On another note, Hurricane Harvey, huh? I'm in Texas, though not on the coast. Flooding is real.**


	6. Month 6

**[The handwriting is large but packed together.]**

I'm irritated. Fucking irritated.

I want to fight. I want to move. I want to do something. Doing nothing is killing me. Sitting still is killing me. _Thinking_ is killing me.

People irritate me. They're so stupid. So inconsistent. Could you for once just say what you mean? Just stop with the _bullshit_.

Fuck, I want to punch something.

The president knows it too. I spotted Ruto around downstairs. I'm not stupid. I know the boss sent him to spy on me. Well, screw him. He can't stop me.

 **[The handwriting is somewhat calmer, but still tightly packed.]**

Okay, maybe he can. Whatever. I've got a stash of alcohol for a reason.

 **[The handwriting is mostly normal]**

Ruto is very unhappy with my life decisions. Story of my life, right?

I just keep disappointing the people who have faith in me.

Just a disappointment.

* * *

 **Thanks for reviewing people! I may not always respond but know that I appreciate it nevertheless.**


	7. Month 7

I'm surprised the President hasn't mentioned that incident. It's unlike him to leave well enough alone. It probably says He even let me take on a new project.

Not talking is a harder construct that I realized. Not the inability to talk, but the choice to remain silent despite it all. I'm beginning to see the wisdom in Tim's silence.

Observing, taking note, and acting in correspondence with those actions. Making every action speak louder than words. Making every glance, and subtle twitch have meaning. Getting so far into a character that one's self disappears.

Dad always described acting as something magical. I could see it with him. On set I could see how others reacted to him. How he led and followed, pushed and pulled his fellows to be better. I hoped to be like him someday.

I think this part will open the doors for me to become a better actor than my father. I have to carry myself a certain way, to lead through my acting and not my words or simple plot devices. It's enjoyable.

I want to be able to stand on my own two feet in this industry.

* * *

 **I wrote a great little excerpt where Ren comments upon his first encounter with Yashiro, but then I realized that he's not supposed to meet him till he's 17! He's still only 16 here! (There will be further hints as to the passage of time soon, fyi. Up till now it hasn't been important for the flow of story)**

 **Anyways, the Yashiro chapter will have to wait for a while yet. Which is saddening. I quite like that man.**


	8. Month 8

Koga Hiromune. He reminds me of Markus. Except we're not children, and our parents don't rule our lives. Sure, we may still be minors, but we both hold our own schedules. Unlike Markus, Hiromune can hold his own. He called me out quickly, a challenge in every word even as he smiled that fake smile. Not that I have room to talk.

I can play this game. He is set to battle on an even field. Underhanded tricks are expected, but he wants to beat me of his own power. I can respect that.

At the very least, I probably won't try to kill him. Probably. He tests my patience, but on some level, we understand each other. He is not a bad actor, and he has the skill and looks to back up his attitude. That isn't to say I like the man. Just that I can stand him.

Markus… I never spoke to Markus after that day. I was going to kill him, or at least maim him. I was angry. Blinded with rage. Rick was trying to stop me. _Of course_ he was trying to stop me. It all happened so fast. Markus liked Rick. I'm sure he felt horrible that Rick died because of our feud. He probably blames me too. Everyone does.

Next month is the anniversary of Ricks death. It's been a year. I've survived, but I don't really feel like I'm living.


	9. Month 9

I deserve to die.

I caused Rick to die. It was my fault. He was my friend. My best friend. My brother. He did everything for me, and I killed him.

Why did he care? Why did he stick his neck out for me? I didn't deserve it. I was already beyond redemption, and yet he made me think that I could be something more.

I can't. I'm not.

Acting. Being more than just that. I'll never be more than that. There's no going back. No moving on. No fixing it.

He's dead. And it's my fault.

Why couldn't it be me? Nobody would miss me. Rick might, but he'd get on with his life. Nobody else cares. It would solve so many problems. My father wouldn't have to be embarrassed for me. My mother ashamed. My parents would be less burdened by my mistakes. My failures.

I live only because I don't deserve to die. Not when I caused his light to go out. I cannot atone for what I've done.

He was the only one who believed in me.

I should just die.

No one would miss me.

 **…**

Okay… So, this month was bad.

Really bad.

I cannot even list the amount of pure idiocy I participated in in the course of this entry, nor should I in case anyone other than myself should ever read it.

I was wallowing. Feeling sorry for myself. My depression came to a head and I probably could have killed myself. I got alarmingly close, actually.

Ruto was immensely helpful in making sure that myself destructive ways didn't result in something a little more permanent than a hangover. Lorry has also been clearing my schedule. I'd be annoyed except for I don't even deserve to die. Nor do I want to destroy my career.

Micah wrote me again. Probably the only reason I stopped trying to do immensely stupid things that could end my life. I need to restrict myself to simply drinking, but my years as a juvenile delinquent offer far too many options for destructive activities than even Ruto realizes. Frankly I'm surprised I managed to slip past the man.

He probably let me, now that I think about it. Simply followed me and waited for me to exhaust myself. Only stepping in when I was about to do something immensely stupid. Ever the watchful guardian, that man.

I really do wonder where Lorry found him. Frankly I wouldn't be surprised if he were part of the yakuza or something similar. But, in that case, what does that mean for Lorry, for Ruto follows him faithfully and without question.

On another note, maybe I don't want to know.

Micah… she was the light of his life. The one person Rick cared about beyond anything else. His baby sister. He smothered her, and despite her complaining she loved him dearly. She still doesn't blame me.

She sent so many letters. She begged me not to do anything stupid. To live. Combined, the letters could probably make up a small novel. Yet she knew I'd read the whole thing. Even in that state, I had to.

She wrote me every day. She would not stop. She had to make sure I was alive. That I would stay alive. Lorry said she even called him. Stole the number from my fathers cell phone.

If nothing else, I have to live for her. Because she wants me to live.

I'll live for her. I'll live for him.


	10. Month 10

I think I'm becoming obsessive.

I read over last month's entry, and the month before. Rick always said I was one minded. I guess I haven't changed much.

Depression does odd things to one's mind, or so I've heard. Nicky had a lot to say about it, I remember. Said it almost made you bipolar half the time, oddly focus or without passion, depending on the person. She was no expert on the matter, just another young adult with a big mouth. She apparently had experience though, her best friend, her roommate, and to a lesser degree, herself. Of course, there's no two cases that are alike. Everyone has their vices, their reasons. A chemical imbalance, a horrible home life, insecurities, doubts. The death of a loved one.

Dad used to call me soft hearted. It's not a bad thing, he said. It means that I can relate to people, emphasize. Nicky used to say I cared about people too much. That was, before she started calling me a little shit-for-brains.

So, maybe I transferred some of my will to live onto Micah, which is unfair of me. My tenious grasp at life has nothing to do with her daily activities. I need to refocus. Make a goal for myself. Not for Rick or Ricks ghost, or for a girl I barely know. I can't become obsessed with a person, for multiple reasons other than the whole creepy/ stalker aspect of it.

It's been a year. I've survived this long. I'll go back to my old goal, to be able to stand toe to toe with my father. I'll leave my past behind me. My parents haven't bothered to write me anyways. It's time to move past what I was.

Heh, easier said than done. I know it won't be easy. I know I'll probably take one step forward and two steps back. I'm prepared for that. If nothing else I know Lorry and Ruto will watch over me.

Filming starts today. My third project since coming to Japan. Though the filming for Mars Cluster should wrap up soon, Life Steps still has a few months to go. City Hunter is promising though, an epic of sorts. I'm looking forward to the challenge.


	11. Month 11

Nicky used to complain that there was never any consistency. That there was good days and bad days, and nothing in between. I remember her being stressed and tired and run down. She always worked for her friends, their foundation. Thing was, it broke her.

Rick used to say that Nicky took on too much, the hypocrite. He would always talk to her and urge her to take a rest and to stop doing so much, and then turn around and try to parent his sister and be a good boyfriend, while working 40 hr weeks and keeping up with online classes. They were best friends.

For a long time I disliked Nicky. She was sharp and unapologetically forward, yet she let people walk all over her. She had more potential than most, yet was a class A case of low self-esteem hidden behind jokes and fake smiles. I couldn't get used to the hypocrisies of her character. The conflicting personalities that vied for attention.

I think everyone has that though. Rick, the easygoing stunt double that was open and expressive, vs the overprotective older brother who never let anything slip about his home life. There's the good side, and the bad side. You have to accept both parts of a person, or else you won't be able to accept them truly.

As a kid I only let people see one side of me. The grown-up son of world renown celebrities. I never let them see the broken kid that was being crushed by the pressures of an adult world I wasn't yet ready for.

I would've been easier then, now that I think about it. To let people in to that side of me. Thing is, we hide who we really are. Masks and facades, they are increasingly common. Nobody around me can tell the difference between my good days and my bad days now. Now it's just… me.

I miss Rick. Truly, honestly miss him. It's not the depression talking. Not the guilt, or the anger, or the fear. It's the teenager who never related to anybody. The kid that was so alone that he didn't even know he was alone. Now nobody can see through my mask. I didn't realize how lonely it was before.


	12. Month 12

Filming had been going good. I've been too busy to do much of anything. Lorry has made sure of that.

I am both amused, and annoyed by that mans antics. He has assigned a temporary manager for me, and blockish man by the name of Ulrich. He, like me, is half Japanese. Though his name is German, he is as American as I am. He, however, does not try to hide that he's a halfie.

I think I know why Lorry assigned him to me, or vice versa. Seeing another person raised in America allows me to see the differences in our actions verses that of natural born Japanese. We are cruder, less reserved creatures. My few attempts at flirting are taken as either rude or too forceful, though I can usually play it off with a smile. Everything down to the way that I count has to be considered. The way that I hold myself, the way that I bow. I can play off some of it as being direct, as being an actor, and as being famous, but I still must be careful.

Ulrich is weirdly observant at times. He's also annoying. I generally get along with most people, but Ulrich is truly annoying. And it's not that he talks too much or has a weird sounding voice or even hits on my pet peeves. He just- I don't know, annoys me.

Also, we spent Christmas together. Not that Christmas has the same feeling here. It's mostly couples, which now that I think about it makes the above sentence read just- wrong. I don't know how it happened, but I personally blame Lorry. I was too busy in the initial whirlwind of moving to truly acknowledge the holiday last year. Mom is still probably pissed at Lorry now that I think about it. She's the type to hold a grudge.

It was actually pretty cool, not that I'd admit it. He forced me to go with him to the Christmas festival in Hibiya Park. Apparently it's a German sponsored thing, and Ulrich is all about his culture. He kept telling me to try some of his glühwein, and weissbier, and was drunk half the night.

Once again, annoying.

New Years is probably going to be worse. I swear, Europeans are all alcoholics.

* * *

If anyone has seen The Story of Saiunkoku I imagine Ren and Ulrich's relationship to be like Seiran and Ensei's friendship.

Also, I mean no offense. Ren's just feeling irritated today. :)


	13. Month 13

With the coming of a new year comes the belated realization that I never did graduate. Education is important, or so people keep telling me. Funny thing about knowing a bunch of actors includes the not so broadly advertised fact that not all of them have graduated from high school. That being said, I'm surrounded by good influences. Rick put a rather large amount of weight on education. My own parents of course pushed me to graduate despite my busy schedule. Even Nicky said that I should at least get a high school degree or a GED.

Lorry has enrolled me in a special school for actors to finish out high school. It wasn't like I was totally neglecting my education. I finished out the spring semester of my sophomore year via online assignments and simply didn't enter in mid trimester in the Japanese school system. Now that it is the beginning of the school year I'm being enrolled in my final year of high school. Somewhere in there I may be missing a year of education, but so long as I pass my entrance exams and my year placement exams I should be fine. My age lines up with the enrollment requirements at the very least.

Classes don't start till April, and I won't be in class other than for the necessary tests. It's an arrangement made between the studio and the school. It's similar to my schooling arrangement back in the states, and I'm used to self-tutoring so I don't imagine it'll be much of a problem. Lorry has already offered to hire a tutor for me in preparation for the entrance exams, though Ulrich may be helpful in this venture. I've come to find out the man actually has a Masters in History and a Bachelors in English and is working on a degree in Japanese Studies. Who knew?

He's still annoying though.

He also, it just so happens, to be a black belt in a number of degrees of martial arts. It looks like my training will not stop dead. Rick had me doing drills with him as part of my stunts training. He called it 'processing time'. Mostly it was a way to keep me out of trouble. Ulrich takes great enjoyment in fighting. Thus far I've seen him at his best with the bo-staff, though apparently his specialty is hand to hand. My body is covered in bruises, and my muscles burn from a year of misuse.

So, he's my manager. My friend (albeit reluctant). My teacher, and apparently my sensei. (Let us ignore the redundancy of saying 'teacher' and 'sensei'.)

Where does Lorry find these people? I swear, he attracts the strangest people.


	14. Month 14

Childhood is funny.

Children have the unique ability to make friends anywhere they go. They posses an exuberance that is unending, and a youthful vitality that no other being can attempt to replicate. Their only ambition is to have fun, and if there's no fun to be made, they make their own.

These thoughts are brought about by the happenstance meeting of Maria Takarada, the 4 year old niece of the president. His son was busy, and so Takenori Sawara, the Talent section manager, took over babysitting duties. My presence was mostly accidental, Sawara asked me to meet with him about a possible appearance on a talk show hosted by one of his other clients. I was not expecting to be physically attacked the moment of my appearance.

That isn't to say that she is a particularly violent child, nor a particularly bad one. Rather, she was playing a game with the young Hiou Uesugi. Or fighting with him. I'm still not quite sure. Sawara was talking shop with Matsuda- san,that is Hiou's manager, when Ulrich and I stumbled onto the scene.

The resulting scene consisted of me and Ulrich holding each child apart as each fought back against our holds. I was lucky enough to be holding back Maria. Apparently the Uesugi family are known as great martial artists, and Ulrich now has a broken arm for his troubles. As a result, I'm being trained at the Uesugi family dojo, for the dual reasons of Hiou taking away my training partner (for which his manager was very apologetic), and because Hiou doesn't trust Ulrich's training methods after his rather lackluster demonstration. (He was taken down rather fast...)

The whole debacle was a rather blown up argument between the two. Hiou, at the age of 8, was apparently unwilling to rise to Maria's teasing at first. That isn't to say he didn't, eventually. The whole thing started with Maria wanting to play with another child her age, and Hiou got rather... affronted. Hiou may be 9 years old, but he's not much bigger Maria, a fact that apparently is a sore spot for the boy. Maria ended up saying something to the extent of, "Well if your such an _adult_ then beat me!" and challenged him to what ended up being a voting contest.

The question was who was older. Ulrich and I both had enough common sense not to answer that question, for all the good it did us. Despite their bickering the two left on good terms, _after_ being lectured by Sawara and Matsuda- san. Disappointment is a harsher teacher than anger, and both were left rather subdued. Still, they're children, and by the time we left they were getting along. Though I'm not sure giving Maria self defense lessons is a good idea. Not with that gleam in her eyes.

What I wouldn't give to be a kid again. Today's my birthday. I'm 17 today. In America, I'd have one more year till I'm legally an adult.

* * *

 **So Wikipedia says Maria was 5 when her mom died, but the fandom timeline (which I'm going by) says it was four years earlier. When means she was turning 5, so at this point, which is four years before the series, she'd be four to Ren's 17, and I'm goin with 8 for Hiou because he doesn't have a listed birthday, only an age (12). I'm putting his birthday sometime after Ren's, so he's just short of 9. So, since he meets Kyoko before Maria's grateful party where she turns 8, it all maths out.**

 **Consistency** **is a bitch my friends.**


	15. Month 15

I now have the joy of being bruised and abused twice a day. Once at the Usugai estate where an 8-year-old regularly trounces me (with great pleasure might I add), and once in the privacy of my own gym. Through my bruises are less noticeable while my training is more intense, so I suppose there must be some progress.

Ulrich will soon be departing. I passed my entrance exams with flying colors thanks to the man, and I am starting classes shortly. I cannot honestly say I will miss him, for his is an irritant at the best of times, however I will admit he has grown on me.

Like a leech or other such parasite, but I digress. He's useful at least. Perceptive. I started getting into a funk after my birthday. You know what he did? He put me in his car, a and went out to the country with me. Nice, long quiet drive right? I was being particularly silly that day, so I wasn't expecting for him to go from zero to one-fifty in he blink of an eye. I didn't have time to be mad or depressed, I was too busy fearing for my life. Then, before I could get over the shock of _that_ particular episode, he dragged me out of the car and started punching me, yelling at me to defend myself. I don't know why, or what got into him, or how he though it was a good idea, but it worked. We sparred for hours until I couldn't even stand up right, then he threw me in a pool to wake me up, told me to take a shower, and drove me back to Tokyo.

Also, somehow despite my easy to come by early gigs I have yet to receive any more requests. I have been doing auditions like most new actors and talent members, but I have yet to receive anything back from the agency. In the meantime, Lorry has taken advantage of the openings in my schedule and has me running errands. Nothing too degrading, though I was a packhorse for a rather reputable woman with a rather bad temper. When I complained to Ulrich in passing, he said that working with irritants was something I would have to get used to. He also had the nerve to give me a look, like I was the irritant in our relationship.

Though he did have a fair point. I'll just have to learn to plaster a smile on my face. I have Ricks old antics to draw upon at least. He could always find a way to get along with everyone.

I am not particularly looking forward to the coming of school. My understanding of Japanese kanji has progressed considerably since my arrival in this country, however I am not looking forward to reading through textbooks. Ulrich has understood my trouble and had worked with me to learn as many kanji as possible, but some of the colloquial things still escape me.

As for Ulrich's departure, Lorry has suggested that he has a new manager in place for when Ulrich departs. I wonder what kind of person they will be. Hopefully less irritating than Ulrich.


	16. Month 16- April

Lorry asked me the other day if I still wrote entries. He must've seen the notebook among my school belongings, a necessity nowadays. When I responded affirmatively he seemed delighted, as though he hadn't expected me to follow his orders. Which is irritating in itself, but just so like him. I had promised to follow his orders, and though I may not be quite as literal now that I've been here for a year, I still take what he says into consideration.

Dear god, I think Taicho is growing on me.

I've received a plethora of new offers since my last entry; apparently Lorry has been filtering them himself before handing them to Ulrich to give to me. I've taken on a new adventure series, and a short-series drama where I play the best friend character. According to Ulrich's sleuthing I've got somewhat of a cult following.

I do think this journal has helped. Looking back at past entries, I can see that I've progressed as a person in some ways. I could never keep a journal when I was younger, something about the consistency of the writing that I found enheritantly irritating. Still, writing once a month is not too strenuous. I understand now this is more an assignment for me than anything else. The fact that Taichou didn't even think I'd written these entries past the third or so (I cannot remember when he stopped asking me about it, as if it were some sort of homework assignment) He never did read any entries, not that I would have let him, but he never tried either, which may have been the reason why I was okay with the assignment.

Writing is soothing. Writing by pen more so. It may be why Micah keeps penning letters to me, despite the fact that I stopped responding. The catharsis is acceptable, and more wholesome than, say, being mentally and physically abused by your half German manager on the side of the road.

Yes, I am still annoyed.

I'm meeting my new manager shortly. Later today in fact. Lorry got this odd glint in his eye. He's planning something, I know it. I just can't decide if his plotting is towards me, or the man that shall soon be my manager. He's asked me to trust him though, and with a certain amount of trepidation I do. After all, no one has asked for ones trust without doing something untrustworthy. Otherwise, trust is perceived and freely given. Nevertheless we shall see what happens.

* * *

 **I've recently been writing quite a few of these halters in my phone whenever inspiration strikes. Good news, more chapters, bad news, less editing before I submit it. I will go back and change things as needed, because I acknowledge that chapters written at 2am may not be free of errors, but sometimes I feel that things are sufficient enough to submit.**


	17. Month 16- II

Lorry seems to think I need a babysitter.

Said man's name is Yashiro. Yukihito Yashiro, though I've taken to just call him Yashiro. He's annoying. In a likable sort of way. A different sort of annoying than Rick had been. Rick radiated self-confidence and easy likability, while Yashiro is more awkward and… excitable.

Dealing with him in the professional setting proves quite useful though. He's organized, upfront, and brutally honest when need be. Thus far I've only found one fault in the man. That is, his inability to deal with electronics without potential mishap. Needless to say, after the third cell phone I no longer let him touch my own.

Lorry announced at our meeting that I am to start modeling for an agency called R'Mandy, a direct competitor of my mother's brand. Lorry has quite the twisted sense of humor. Yukihito does not appear to be aware of my situation, based on his confused expression throughout the exchange.

My rise to fame is proving rather fast. The industry that I have chosen values everything that I have become. Yashiro claims that I am the easiest charge he has had to date. He does not speak of his other clients though, and I suspect that Taichou tested the man in a rather unfair way, for he becomes gloomy anytime I mention them.

I am being kept busy, but not so busy that I don't notice the curious looks Yukihito gives me on occasion. He's about as different from Ulrich as a person can be, but he's still observant. I feel like he was expecting me to be something else. More- rough around the edges or something.

Heh. If only he knew. Had he been assigned to me a year ago it would've been a different story. A lot can change in a year.

All the same, the constant cautious looks make me feel like a criminal, or worse, a child. Never mind the fact that I'm 17.

* * *

 **This one has been sitting on my desktop for a while. I originally wrote it after the… 6** **th** **(?) chapter. I edited a few points, but it's largely unchanged.**


	18. Month 16- III

Ulrich appears to have kidnapped my new manager.

Might I add that Ulrich was supposed to have returned to the states some time ago. _Apparently,_ he was under assignment until now. The way that he says, "under assignment," makes me suspect something sinister. His bulk, proficiency with weapons, and overall world knowledge doesn't help that assumption.

I'm between secret agent or mobster.

Okay, to be fair, I've assumed as much for longer than today, but writing it makes it seem like I'm speculating too much. It also helps to solidify my speculations. Though, if said speculations were true, what would that make Taichou? It's kind of hard to picture him as a member of the Yakuza.

Actually, it's not that hard.

At any rate, Lorry said not to expect him back for at least another month. Having spent less than a week with Yashiro, I'm concerned for him. He does not seem to be the same type of person as Ulrich and the rest of Taiho's usual crowd. Ulrich is a muscle man, and an intellectual. Not much in way of a manager, though he proved his adaptability again and again.

So much speculation, not enough time.


End file.
